


Guilt Bouquet

by TheAzureFox



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Akira feeling guilt and regret, Comas - Freeform, F/M, Rest in peace Ema, also my hopes for Akira in the upcoming episodes, canon-oriented, character studying Ema's and Akira's relationship, meanwhile I'm just gonna cry in a corner now, minor depictions of violence, or what little we know of it, spoilers for episode 31 and 32
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAzureFox/pseuds/TheAzureFox
Summary: Akira gets a call from Den City's Hospital.And, this time, it's not for his sister.(speculative hireshipping. Spoilers for upcoming episodes)





	Guilt Bouquet

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Ema Bessho. May you come back later, healthy and hearty and free from the YGO girl curse once this soon-to-be-even-more-heartbreaking arc is done.
> 
> Also, as a fun-fact sort of thing, I find it interesting to note that the flowers shown in episode 30 w/ Ema and Akira seem to be poppies which are, also, a symbol of Morpheus, the Greek God of sleep. If Ghost Girl ends up in a coma, it's going to be pretty damn ironic that Akira - who was the one who brought Ema to the garden of poppies - will also be the one who led her to her soon-to-be state of "sleep".

Ema Bessho is in the hospital.

Akira receives the news in the middle of the night. It’s cold and he’s tired, only managing to keep his eyes open because his sister is in Link VRAINS and he’s desperate to see her awake and safe. His cellphone buzzes on the surface of a glass table, clattering to and fro until he picks it up to inspect it. A single number runs across the screen, one that Akira recognizes as Den City’s hospital.

Instantly, he panics, taking flight from his spot on the living room couch in order to investigate his sister’s room. However, to his relief, he sees that Aoi is still safely tucked away into a VRAINS barrier, Blue Angel undoubtedly making her presence known in the virtual world.

And then he thinks, what if it’s a prank? If Aoi is safe, there is no reason for the hospital to contact him. There is no reason for him to worry about anything if his sister is safe. His finger hovers over the “End Call” button, eager to dismiss the anxiety he feels at seeing such a number but, against his better judgment, he answers the call.

“Hello, Akira Zaizen.” A voice on the other side says. “Are you a friend of Miss Ema Bessho?”

His heart sinks as he realizes he’s made a critical error. So, swallowing the nausea he feels at almost denying the call, he nods and hurries the speaker on. Words are spoken but Akira can barely hear them, his fingers numb as he scrambles together a note, tacks it to Aoi’s door and then strides out of his apartment and down a flight of stairs, already on his second phone call.

Isomaki greets him with impeccable timing at the front of the building, his presence dampening away Akira’s worries at arriving later than he intends. He hurries into the sleek limo, directing Isomaki to travel to Den City’s hospital as fast as humanly possible.

Traffic, however, seems to disagree with Akira’s agenda. Cars line the streets, patiently strolling along while he taps his impatient foot on the floor of the limo. He’s shaking, shivering with anxiety as the lights of Den City sweep over him. There are many things he is thinking of, many words that gurgle in his throat but echo in his mind because he cannot say them aloud. The car inches forward as he puzzles over sorting through his own feelings and then, eventually, breaks through until they are heading in a steady pace towards Den City’s hospital.

They arrive at little less than 12:30 A.M. and, before Isomaki can even come to a stop, Akira is barreling through the door of the limo and off into the hospital. His feet pound upon polished white tiles, his breathing ragged as he arrives at a waiting desk and says his name (“Ema Bessho is on the second floor,” an employee tells him, not at all bothering to check because she recognizes him from the last incident). With directions in hand, he high-tails his way up a set of stairs and comes to the door of a room with a single pink-haired occupant nestled inside.

A doctor greets him at the entrance of the room, clipboard in hand. He shakes Akira’s hand and speaks in a soft tone that seeks to ease away Akira’s worries.

“We found Ema Bessho just three hours earlier,” the gray-haired man explains. “A neighbor noticed that Miss Bessho had failed to leave her room in three day’s time and notified the landlord as it was considered to be “unusual behavior”. Eventually, the police became involved and found Miss Bessho in her apartment room with her duel disk on and no VRAINS barrier to be seen. Upon identifying her, we tried to search through our records of her for any family. However, the closest thing we could find was your business card tucked into her breast pocket.”

Akira is almost stunned at such news. “You couldn’t find anyone else?” he asks, half in disbelief and half in wonder. He knew Ema was secretive, that she kept certain parts of her life under lock and key, but he had extreme doubts that closest thing she had to an emergency contact was him himself. “No one but me?”

“There were no records in our database of Miss Bessho having any other family or relatives,” the doctor informs. “All we were able to find was your number. However, if you are not truly affiliated with her then I am sorry for inconveniencing you. You are free to leave if you wish.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Akira shakes his head, gaze stolen by the figure in the room beyond him. “We’re not family, but we’re close enough.”

The doctor looks like he wants to point out that he is, indeed, _not_ close enough considering she hadn’t listed him as an official person of contact. Regardless, the man looks at Akira like he believes him, continuing on with: “Were you her…perhaps…?”

_Lover?_

The word hangs in the air and Akira bats it away like it’s a mistake to say. “We’re friends.”

The doctor sighs at Akira’s explanation and beckons him into the room. Akira follows, letting the door close behind him softly as he approaches Ema’s side. He grabs a nearby stool and draws it to the hospital bed, taking a seat and waiting. The doctor observes him with green eyes, frowns, and then grabs a pen and holds up his clipboard.

“According to these results,” he begins, “Ema Bessho shares the same brain wave patterns as the Anothers. Her brain is showing no signs of response of outside stimuli but seems to react to small doses of electricity. Not to mention but, aside from her, several other duelists are now in the same condition she is.”

“Other…duelists…but she...?”

“Hmm? Am I wrong? I would assume since she shares the same symptoms as the Anothers – all duelists, let me remind you, in Link VRAINS – I would figure that she is a duelist herself. Is this wrong?”

Akira shakes his head as he thinks of Ghost Girl. “No, it’s not.”

“As I suspected.” The doctor hums. “Now, if I may inquire another question, do you know _why_ Miss Bessho was in Link VRAINS?”

He thinks of a field of poppies. He thinks of meeting Ema in the midst of one of Den City’s parks, a smile on his face as he imparts information to her. “Something is happening where nothing is,” she echoes, her voice wistfully distant. Then, she stands up to mimic his posture, a hand on her hip as they discuss the benefit of him getting a discount. She laughs at such a suggestion and waves a hand, eager to depart. He waves back, watching her free spirit burn with the desire for treasure, and then he makes a promise to himself to ask about her findings the next time he meets up with her.

_He hasn’t heard from her since._

“No, I don’t. I last saw her three days ago, but she only mentioned to me that she wanted to surf around. There was no specific reason listed.”

He lies through his teeth but it’s not like he can admit that Ema is a cyber treasure hunter with a taste for the forbidden. Saying such things would undoubtedly put her in danger if not jail.

The man before him settles his clipboard back down on a nearby desk and looks over him. “Well, alright, thank you. If you think of anything else, please tell me. I need to go right now but if you ever need to call me here is my phone number.”

He pulls out a business card and hands it to Akira. The man accepts it, reading over the number before depositing it in his coat pocket. Without another word, the gray-haired doctor takes up his materials and departs, leaving Akira alone in the room as his head hangs in shame.

Akira feels sick. His stomach is shifting and bubbling with nausea. His gaze lands upon Ema and there’s something about the way she looks cold and helpless that leaves him feeling as if his staring is soiling her image. He turns his gaze to the ground, inspecting a piece of dust that clumps together at the tip of his shoe.

“I led you to this, didn’t I?” he says to Ema softly. “Because I gave you the information you wanted. Because I thought it would help you.”

She doesn’t answer and he knows she won’t. He tries to picture the last time he saw her, tries to remember the glittering eyes of a treasure hunter at work and tries to remember the way she’d given him an exasperated expression at his insistence for a discount. She'd been so care-free, so easy-going, her posture the definition of fascinated intrigue.

Akira looks up from the floor to stare at Ema’s resting face. He’s almost haunted by how she suddenly looks like Aoi, her form melting into a cursed replica of his sister on her death bed. _Again,_ he thinks while curling his hands into fists. _Again, I’ve led someone to their grave_.

Demon eyes flash in the back of Akira’s mind and he wonders if Revolver has something to due with Ema’s comatose state of being. It’s not a far-fetched possibility: Revolver had already stolen Blue Angel from him once before, what was to stop him from taking Ema too?

_Must I lose the people I cherish?_

It’s an agonizing thought. Aoi is alive and well, but not a day passes by where he doesn’t fear for her safety. Her involvement with Hanoi has marked her as a walking target for danger, for another brain virus and another  _victim._ Ema was able to take care of herself. Akira didn’t doubt in that. But to watch as she laid before him, a plastic mask over red lips and fluttering eyes come to an eternal close…it _hurts_.

He wonders if, maybe, Aoi knows something. Akira only knew that he had ignited the spark that set the flame. He did not know of the blaze that rampaged until Ema sat like a corpse before him. He did not know of the events that led to her demise – that she had been left alone to the despair of something far worse than death.

So, pulling himself together and coming to a stand, he makes a decision.

He’ll talk to Blue Angel and find out the truth.

At the very least, he feels he owes Ema that much.

~~~

He arrives in his apartment at an ungodly time and, before he can even inquire anything of his sister, he nestles up on the living room couch and falls asleep. When he awakes, a thin white sheet spreads out against his body and curls around his shoulders. Akira isn’t at all surprised to see his sister seated across from him with a bowl of cereal in her lap and the TV playing in the background.

“What time is it?” he asks in a groggy voice. Aoi looks at him in mild surprise as he shifts to a seating position.

“Noon,” she answers stiffly. “You were asleep since two.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“I was up before you came home - I saw your note.”

It takes him a moment to understand his sister’s words. He clutches at his forehead and tries to ease away the fog in his mind. “I think I have a question to ask you.”

“About Ghost Girl?”

His heard jerks up.

“You know about Ema?”

“Ah, is that her name?” Aoi takes a spoonful of cereal and consumes it. “I’ve met her a couple of times now.”

He squints. “When?” As far as he knew, Ema had never met his sister much less shown an interest in her.

“In Link VRAINS and in real life. She took me from school to the riverfront and gave me a lecture on responsibility,” Aoi sounds like she’s half-way to rolling her eyes and he wonders what Ema had said to make his sister look as irritated as she did. “Regardless, you had a question for me about her? I didn’t know you cared about someone like her, Brother.”

Aoi’s voice sounds accusatory and he winces with the knowledge that he needs to explain. “I never found a reason to talk about her with you,” he says, quietly.

“She seemed to know you on a first-name basis.”

“I’m her employer,” he offers as an excuse.

“Her employer?” Aoi furrows her eyebrows. “But…you’re on a first name basis?”

He tries not to express the amount of discomfort he is suddenly feeling. “Of course we are.” He tries to move on. “But, anyways, about her….”

“Yes?”

His voice becomes firm with liquid courage. “Do you know what happened to her? In Link VRAINS? Three days ago, she went in there. Three days later, she was found to be in a comatose state. There is the suggestion of a correlation between her and other duelists in conditions similar to the Anothers. I want to know why. Do you know?”

Her gaze dips to her legs, her hands bunching up her skirt.

“…Aoi?”

“Yes, I do. I was there. I saw what happened.”

“Great. Can you tell me?”

Her bangs hang over her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t want to know. What I saw there, what _Playmaker_ saw…it wasn’t pretty, Brother.”

“What happened, Aoi?”

His sister swallows. “Something really bad. Something even worse than what happened with me.”

Akira finds his patience limited with the way Aoi beats around the bush. “ _What happened?_ ”

“She was torn apart. Her body was literally torn apart into little shards of data. And then we heard her screams,” Aoi clutches at her head, drawing her knees to her chest, “we heard her screaming and screaming and screaming. It was so awful, Brother. She was literally being ripped to shreds and all we could do was watch.”

His face contorts with anguish at hearing such words, a wave of nausea overcoming him. “But is she…?”

“We don’t know,” Aoi shakes her head. “We’re looking into that.” She takes in a deep breath and faces him eye-to-eye with a declaration full of determination: “Brother, I’ll save her no matter what.”

“You’ll…save her?” Such words did not settle well with him. Aoi was not one to stick her neck out for other people – he had a strange feeling Ema was no different.

“I promised her, Brother. I owe her a debt and I’m going to repay it by bringing her back.”

Ah. So, she wanted to save Ema for the sake of getting even. Made sense.

He’s tempted to laugh. Not at his sister but at himself. Aoi can fight for Ema’s sake and all he can do is stare at the floor and feel like he’s the most useless person in existence.

The blue-haired man looks at his lap, clutching his hands into fists as he asks: “Is there anything I can do to-?”

“ _No!_ ” Aoi shouts and the man startles as she slams her hands on the table between them. “No, Brother, you mustn’t!”

“And why not?” Akira argues. “I can duel too, I’m more than capable!”

“Not against what we’re up against,” his sister shakes her head. “You need to stay out of this!”

“But I can’t just leave you alone! Let me help!”

“It’s _my_ fight, Akira, not _yours_.” The use of his real name stings and he winces as Aoi glares at him, bristling. “Please, for my sake, don’t get involved.”

There’s a long pause of silence before his shoulders slump and he backs down. “Fine, if that’s what you want. I won’t go into Link VRAINS.”

He hates the way the word _incompetent_ weaves into the air and treads across his skin. _I can fight too_ , he wants to say, _I can help you and save Ema too!_

Aoi won’t hear anything of it though. She switches the subject with the obvious intent to move on and make his decision final. He eases along, grudgingly, into the new conversation but even as his mind looks for an opening Aoi is clever enough to keep him from speaking.

Ultimately, he gives in, retires, and tries not to think of how guilty he feels for letting Ema’s life slip through his fingers.

“Ema…” He whispers.

If only he had never sent her on that witch-hunt. If only he hadn’t helped her…If only he hadn’t told her what she wanted to hear most…

_If only…_

~~~

Akira stands in Ema’s hospital room and tries not to suffocate in the stuffiness of its peaceful posture. The humming of machines and the buzzing of outside chatter trickles into his ears, letting him sink into agony. Plastic sits in hands calloused by constant keyboard typing and pen writing. Cushioned in his grip is a bouquet of poppies freshly-picked, dancing with a bountiful selections of colors.

It is his gift to Ema.

He lies it down on a nearby table, offers it up to her sleeping body as he collapses on a stool and overlooks the unconscious woman. The flowers contrast nicely with her hair, adding a pop of color to the silver-stained hospital room. But, within their beauty is a message of overlapping regret and guilt. They are not just plants meant to represent her in the language of flowers (because, while she does mean _success_ , _beauty_ , and _luxury_ – a perfect depiction of his ally – it is not his intention) but also to carry out his message.

Yes. Akira watches as Ema lays helpless on the hospital bed, color draining from her face day by day. Poppies represented Morpheus, the Greek God of Sleep. They represented her comatose state, represented his very _recognition_ that he had been the one to send her soul to the underworld. His guilt and regret reflects in those flowers, springing up like bits of pollen that coat the entire room into a wash of unsaid words and feelings.

“Ema,” he says, like he expects her to hear him. “I’m sorry. _Please_ , I’m sorry.”

There is something so frustrating about letting not only his _sister_ but his _closest person_ fall through his fingers like sand. He’s so out of control, so lost and helpless that any time he tries to help someone it just leads to him dabbling in the demise of others.

“Is it so wrong to help people?” He muses in bitter agony. “Is it so wrong to want to see everyone _happy_?”

Undoubtedly, if Ema were awake and able to respond, she when give him that coy glance of hers and hum in amusement. “ _Happiness is an emotion that people invent to make themselves feel better_ ,” she’d say, wistful and yet perhaps with a twinge of longing in her eyes. “ _Akira, the happiness you wish to give everyone is a child’s fantasy. Not everyone has the chance to become happy. Not even me_.”

Ema was a wildcard. A person of enviable mystery that both entangled him and yet disinterested him. He was aware she hid secrets, he was aware that there was something rather enigmatic about her, something so bizarre and yet something so familiar.

They’d been close for a long time but, even so, he had yet to learn anything about her that didn’t tiptoe past strange or greedy. She claimed many things, claimed to dislike men without power, claimed to feel used, but the claims she made were only that: claims. He could not read her like a book but he could tell that she was interwoven with the fabric of illusions, the threads of appearing as she was and the little “read-between-the-lines” that accumulated in Akira’s distant understanding of her.

Still, he thought he at least could see her as who she was. There were just little tidbits of information, little scraps of words and phrases that gave him an inkling as to what she was feeling. Isolated and alone, grateful yet bitter, vain and greedy, hopeful yet somehow in despair. _That_ was how he could best describe her.

Akira stands to his feet, ridding himself of such thoughts. To reflect on Ema is to try and wrap his mind around a cold case mystery. She’s simply too far gone to ever say a thing about. Shame bundles inside his chest, gurgling in his stomach as he turns away from the bouquet of his regrets that he leaves at Ema’s side.

“Please be okay, Ema.”

Akira departs before the emotions swelling inside of him can drown him any more. He clenches his hands into fists, stepping past the blur of hospital patients and fussing doctors as he makes his way out.

_This is all my fault._

~~~

It is one week later when Akira learns that Aoi has done it and Ghost Girl has been released from the VRAINS.

His sister is exhausted, barely able to touch the dinner he cooks up for her before collapsing on one of their two couches. He nearly makes a joke about those couches becoming their new beds but refrains himself when he sees that Aoi has already closed her eyes and begun dozing off.

Later, he gets a phone call from the doctor from before (he recognizes the phone number from the business card) and is told that Ema has already departed from the hospital. Akira can’t help but admit he’s disappointed at the news, that he had wanted to greet Ema and say all the things he wanted to say the moment she was awake. Still, he continues the train of conversation on another thought.

“Will she be fine? Is she alright to leave like that?” Akira asks into the cellphone, cupping his mouth so his voice doesn’t wake up Aoi.

However, the girl manages to open her eyes and stare at him and he flashes her a guilty look. _It’s about Ema,_ he mouths.

 _Oh_ , his sister mouths back, watching him with tired interest. She looks like she’s struggling to stay awake and he has no doubt she is so he grabs a nearby blanket and tosses it over her body.

 _Sleep_. He tells her.

Aoi smiles at the worry in his eyes and gives a small nod, curling back up as he makes a move to step away.

The doctor on the end continues his response. “…she’s not in critical condition, Akira, but she should be fine. We went over a few things and, aside from being in bed for three days, her body is perfectly healthy and her mind is rationally normal. I have no doubt that there is little concern for her or her state of being.”

“I see…thank you then.”

The call ends and he’s surprised to see Aoi standing behind him. He scowls at her, ready to scold her into bed if the need arises.

“Is she okay?”

He blinks. “Ema?”

“Yeah. Is she okay?”

Akira nods. “She is.”

A smile on fatigued lips. “I’m glad. Though, I’m surprised she hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Why’s that?”

“She said ‘ _I wonder if Akira knows about me?_ ’ right before she left, like she wanted to know how you felt about her disappearance. I don’t think I was supposed to hear her say that, though.”

“Probably not,” he shrugs and beckons his sister towards her room. “I suppose I’ll hear back from her eventually though.”

“How do you know that?” Aoi rubs at her eyes, reluctantly allowing herself to be shuffled forward.

He gives her a light smile, one that speaks of both his relief and his knowing about the secretive pink-haired woman. “She always finds a way to contact me.”

~~~

It’s Monday morning when Akira hears from Ema. He’s nearly on his lunch break and debating between tacos and pizza when Hayami crashes into his office. The girl is giggling with glee and in such an exuberant state that he almost finds it hard not to be infected by her merry livelihood.

“Hayami,” he greets her as she bounds up to him, cheery, “what is it?”

“C-Chief Zaizen!” she squeaks. “T-There’s someone here to see you!”

An eyebrow raises. “Who?”

“Someone really pretty! I-I think she’s a supermodel or something!”

He flicks through a mental list of the people in his company who fit both the description of being a ‘supermodel’ and who would also have business with him. However, none come to mind.

He tries another approach, if only to figure out why someone is meeting him just minutes before he goes on break. “If I may ask, do you know why she’s here?”

“Like I said – to see you!” Hayami gives a giddy laugh and Akira begins to feel like he’s missing out on some vital context. “Come on silly, you can’t keep a woman waiting!”

Akira wants to protest – his stomach’s growling and he’s about to go on break – but he figures one visit can’t hurt and so he grudgingly accepts to go and greet this woman.

He emerges into the guest room and nearly has his breath stolen. Sitting in the waiting area with her legs crossed and a magazine in her hands is Ema Bessho. Her pink hair is pressed between her back and the chair she sits upon, her gaze captured by an article that reads: " _Playmaker's Heroics Have SOL Worried? A Tale Between Hero and Corporate!_ " _._ She doesn't seem interested in the article, merely amused by its suggestions, but the sound of the door closing behind Akira captures her attention.

Eyelashes flutter and Ema’s gaze shifts from her magazine to Akira. She smiles at him, folding the journal in two and then placing it on a nearby table as she gracefully leaves her seat to greet him.

“Ema,” he says, befuddled to see her in one of his company's waiting rooms, “why are you here?”

“That’s a stupid question,” she laughs. “Why else would I be here except to see you?”

His eyebrows furrow. “You have no reason to see me and I gave you no assignments. Unless you’re still investigating Playmaker?”

“No, I gave up on that some time ago.” She stands to her feet and approaches him with light steps, crossing her arms. “Rather, I’m here for something else.”

“Are you seeking work then?” He tilts his head. “I don’t have anything for you right now.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

A sigh, one that’s drawn out and laced with irritation. “You’re frustrating sometimes, you know?”

He blinks and stares at her in bemused exasperation. “I don’t think I follow you.”

She fiddles with a piece of hair. “I came to thank you.” Magenta eyes fixate upon him, hesitant and yet determined.

“For what?”

Red lips form the imitation of a pout. “Are you toying with me now, Akira?”

“No.”

“ _Hmm_ I suppose I can trust you on that.” She circles him like a shark, arms crossed and gaze meeting with his as he follows her movements. “I wanted to thank you for paying my hospital bills and...for leaving those flowers.”

At first, Akira furrows his eyebrows. Then he remembers the bouquet of hand-picked poppies he’d left at her side one Friday evening and tries not to reveal the shame he feels at having nearly forgotten their presence.

“It’s nothing,” he says, trying to restrain the hint of suffocation that accompanies those words. His lips break into a reassuring smile, his gaze softening as Ema stares at him. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Her eyes widen, a sharp intake of breath jutting past her lips. She steps forward and stands two footsteps away from Akira, observing him with cat-like eyes. Ema’s uncomfortably close to him, close enough that he thinks she’s intentionally trying to break their unsaid rule of “look, don’t touch” that they have between them. Such acute proximity leaves him rather uncertain - Ema was never one to stand so close much less _look_ like she’s about to reach out and steal his breath away.

“Thank you, Akira,” Ema says, her voice soft and genuine and a far cry from the taunting lilt she normally carries in her words.

The woman brushes past him, done with conversation and bidding farewell without saying a thing. However, as she passes, the tips of her fingers graze his own and the bubble squished between them suddenly _pops_.

Electricity jolts through Akira's hand and spirals up his arm, making him turn his head to watch as his closest ally slips out the door. He’s taken aback at such a negligent touch, at such a forbidden breach of contract. Her gratitude burns on his skin, the seeming words of “ _hey, this means a lot to me_ ” etching itself onto the walls of his mind as the bubble between them reforms.

Hayami comes to his side as Ema disappears, peering over his baffled expression with curiosity and sulking shoulders. “She’s very pretty,” the girl says softly. “She seemed to know you, Chief Zaizen. Who was she?”

Akira tries to reorient himself, walking back to his workplace to grab his cellphone. Hayami pads after him, seeking an answer. “She’s…a friend,” Akira responds lightly, unsure of how else to phrase it.

“A friend?” Hayami sounds rather dubious. Akira doesn’t have a clue as to why though – it’s a perfectly honest answer. “Are you sure she’s not someone special?”

“No, nothing like that.” He huffs at such a suggestion. “We’re not that close, believe me.”

Akira approaches his seat and nearly sits down when he hears Hayami say: “Well, you could have fooled me.”

He pauses to stare at her. “What?”

Hayami startles, waving a hand dismissively as he scrutinizes her. “N-Nothing, Chief Zaizen! R-Regardless, it’s your lunch break now, isn’t it? If you want, I can take over for you? I-I mean, I know you didn’t bring a lunch with you today so you must be going out to eat, right? Well, I can keep an eye on the place in the meantime then!”

“Right." The blue-haired man nods. “Thank you, Hayami, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He takes off without a second thought, his stomach growling as she departs.

~~~

Ema greets him at the entrance of SOL Tech, sitting on her motorcycle as she beckons him over. He approaches with an eyebrow raised, his jacket on his arms and fluttering in the wind.

“I thought you went home already. Are you waiting for someone?”

“No one in particular.” She says, ignoring the fact that they both know it’s a lie.

“Are you free?”

She lays her arms on her motorcycle and her chin atop them. “I’m surprised you would ask me that. Of course I am.”

Akira snorts as if her cheeky response is expected and then pauses in front of her. “I’m on lunch break right now, are you hungry?”

Ema’s eyes search him. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“No, merely offering to pay for food. As a ‘get-well’ gift, if you may.”

Red lips press tightly against one another in distaste. “You’ve already paid my hospital bills, Akira. You don’t need to do anything more than me. In fact, I almost feel obligated to repay you now.”

He shakes his head at her. “Consider this my own debt repaid to you. Just as Blue Angel paid her respects to you then so did I. It was the least I could do to repay you and I would have felt guilty otherwise. After all, it was I who lead you into that state and it was my sister who saved you, not me. It’s the only way I could feel useful.”

“Mm,” Ema closes her eyes, head tilting into a position that makes Akira wonder if she’s going to fall asleep on him. “I see.”

“You seem…disappointed?”

“No, no, not at all.” She props herself back up, engine humming beneath her. “I was just thinking about how sweet you are.”

He raises an eyebrow and laughs at the near exasperation on her face. “ _Sweet_ sounds like too strong a word. Call it me repaying back a favor of yours.”

Slender fingers touch red lips. “I suppose that’s an appropriate way of labeling it. Though, I do think you’ve already repaid quite some amount of favors by now. Those hospital bills were worth a lot, you know.”

“I’m sure – my wallet is crying right now.”

Ema laughs and he chuckles as if those words are some kind of common gag between them. “Regardless,” Ema stretches and looks out in the far-reaching expanse of the city, “I feel I’ll have to reject your offer.”

“Oh? Reject free food? That’s unlike you, Ema.”

“I may be greedy but even I have a limit.”

He gives a teasing smile at her response but can’t help but feel the edge of disappointment that digs into his stomach. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

“Shut it, you,” Ema grumbles, hands attaching to the bars of her motorcycle. “Before I regret turning down your generosity.”

Akira laughs again and she scowls at him, mood seemingly soured.

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone.” Akira pulls out his cellphone and begins to dial Isomaki’s number. “But do you at least want to accompany me? I want to talk over some things with you. About Link VRAINS. If you’re free, of course.”

There’s no way she’s not free and they both know this. Her easy-going insistence on keeping their conversation rolling has long since signaled that she has nowhere else to go.

“I can’t see why not.” She kills the power on her motorcycle and lets it stand in place. “I’ll be paying for my own meal though.”

He half thinks it’s a bit odd for Ema to be so insistent on using her own money but he merely shrugs his shoulders and allows her to make her own choices. Akira makes a call to Isomaki and Ema sidles up alongside him. A slight drizzle accompanies them as they wait, the silence of their mouths occupied elsewhere by the engines of passing cars and the chatter of workers back from lunch.

Finally, when Akira seeks the confidence to speak, he turns to her and smiles. She catches his expression with confusion, eyebrows furrowing at such a sudden expression, and he elaborates with: “I’m glad you’re alive, Ema.”

She flinches as if his words are like a slap to the cheek. He opens to mouth to ask if he’s somehow insulted her but she shakes her head, her fingertips grazing his.

Her words are soft when she next speaks.

“Thank you, Akira. Truly, thank you.”

His fingers press back against hers.

“Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, the latest episode spoilers came out and while I'm a bit pissed that Ghost Girl is going to get shafted (as per the normal trope of the YGO girl curse :/), it also gives us an interesting opportunity to explore some things the show has left unsaid or uncertain: namely, the extent of Akira's feelings towards Ema. 
> 
> I'm hoping that, just like with Aoi, we get to see Akira tested in how much he actually cares about her. Since she's like going to go into a coma after episode 31, I'm hoping the show starts up two consecutive storylines: Akira finding out the Ema is in a coma and Aoi pledging to pay back the debt she owes "Ghost Girl" by saving the woman's life :D
> 
> I'm especially hoping that the former will consist of Akira realizing something is wrong when Ema doesn't answer his phone calls and he figures it out himself instead of getting a phone call about it like he did here. 
> 
> The latter I'm just praying that Blue Angel will save Ghost Girl because as okay as I am with Playmaker saving Ghost Girl (which would be _fine_ if not a bit annoying that they're just repeating the spiel of Playmaker saves GG just with different circumstances) I feel like Blue Angel actually owes a concrete debt to Ema for forcing Aoi to confront the person in charge of her torment (Vyra). And, as we all are aware, Blue Angel DOES repay her debts so it's not too far off to assume she'll willingly save Ghost Girl from vegetation either.
> 
> Mostly though I just want to see Akira's reaction at losing his closest ally. I don't expect his reaction to be like it was with Aoi - Akira's not as obsessive over Ema as he is over Aoi - but I'm curious to see whether he really considers Ema as someone close to him or as someone he's only mildly concerned over.


End file.
